“Maybe so, but I will not be followed everywhere like I am an incompetent child. I can take care of myself,” she insisted.
At her continued glare, Attion huffed his disapproval, though he lowered his eyes and nodded. “As you wish, my—”
“Diamond,” she interrupted, raising her brows. “You only call me ‘my queen’ when you are mad.”
“I am mad,” he growled.
She stuck her hands on her hips and raised her brows. “You have no need to be.”
“Yes, I d…” he snapped his head to Otekah, who kicked his boot and glared. “Fine,” he muttered on a sigh. He marched to the door. “Well, Diamond, I’m going to see if there is any food or weapons that we can use. At least promise me you will stay near this house and won’t investigate the rest of the village alone?” he asked, arms crossed over his chest. His wings expanded slightly in his frustration, flashing a beautiful golden green.
They had begun to change after only days in the forest. At first Diamond had thought it just the recovering evergreen trees reflecting off his wings, but they had continued to change a little with each day that passed. She had discovered he had never been allowed to venture anywhere other than Avalonia before but he admitted always feeling different, more at home, in the forest.
He thrived on their current surroundings. Happiness occasionally softened his features. He kept them alive by foraging daily in the undergrowth for berries, roots and mushrooms. It was as if he instinctively knew where they would be. He had even smiled with pride at the hoard of yellow berries he had foraged the evening before.
At that moment, Diamond tried not to smile at Attion’s reluctant acquiescence to her demand for independence. She placed a mollifying hand on his forearm. “I promise I will stay near this house,” she said.
With a sigh, Attion shook his head and turned and stalked out.
Otekah smiled at her, then fluidly moved to the tiny stairs.
“Where are you going?” asked Diamond curiously.
Otekah grinned, his teeth startlingly white against his dark skin. “I am checking that this dwelling is safe for you,” he answered with a shrug.
“But I’ve already said I can take care of myself. I will check it,” she told him impatiently.
Otekah looked over his shoulder at her, still grinning. “Unlike Attion, you cannot command me. You are not my queen. So I will go where I choose and do what I choose.”
Diamond sighed in defeat and plonked herself down on a nearby stool, resting her face in her hands. She had learned Otekah was more stubborn than any mule. She really just wanted a few minutes to herself. In truth, she wanted to sit and think of Hugo without anyone watching her. Her two companions were far too observant. It was hard to constantly hide how she felt. Her soul ached with loss, and she was utterly exhausted. Her eyes were sunken from lack of sleep, her whole being was weary and she knew she must look a fright with her greasy, unwashed hair and sallow skin.
Her dreams, and sometimes even her waking moments, were filled with echoes of Hugo. She re-lived his pain, over and over. Sometimes the agony that rippled through her body felt so real it stole her ability to think or even move, wrenching a cry from her.
For the first week or so, both of her companions had been so anxious about her, hovering so close; she had been forced to send them away just so she could have a moment alone to relieve herself. It was at that point she had begun to hide her pain, gritting her teeth and forcing her mind to shut down when she felt her connection to Hugo’s soul stir.
At night, when visions of large winged creatures with vicious talons and mouths full of sharp teeth struck, she forced herself to wake, to wrench herself away from her soulmate. In the night-time darkness of the forest, she often curled into a ball and silently sobbed, trying to fortify her heart and body against the agony she knew would follow. In those dark hours, Diamond prayed to her grandmother and the guardians for Hugo’s torture to end.
Something solid bumped against the floorboards upstairs, making her jump.
Otekah let out a muffled grunt and, within moments, was back downstairs.
“It is all clear. Here, I found these,” he said and dropped faded leather boots in front of her. “I will assist Attion,” he informed her before leaving her alone.
Diamond pulled off the oversized boots she had found weeks ago. A foul stench assaulted her nostrils.
Gods, she needed a bath. Perhaps a dip in that icy stream wouldn’t go amiss, she thought wryly, but pulled on her new boots anyway. She wiggled her toes, hoping her blisters would heal now. That done, she peered around. Despite its intact windows and doors, it was clear the house had been emptied out. Vacant shelves were covered in dust. Jars had fallen on the floor and drawers had been wrenched open. These people had left in a hurry.
Diamond hoped they had made it to safety—if there was such a thing.
It was strange to sit in the deserted living area of this tiny cottage and hear nothing but silence. In fact, it was so unnerving she decided she didn’t like it at all. It reminded her too much of the little house she had shared with her father in Berriesford.
After rummaging through a small chest, she found a large tunic. She shook out the dust from its folds, eyeing it critically. The material was roughly hewn but it would do; its long sleeves would keep her warm. The air was slightly warmer here but it was by no means warm and the past weeks had been cold and miserable. Gratefully, she slipped it on and made her way to the door. Anything would be better than this odd silence, she decided.
Outside, the clouds had lifted. Dirt crunched underfoot as she moved down the front steps and sat on a low stone wall. She stretched back her neck and spine and, tipping up her face, closed her eyes. The wind stirred loose wisps of her hair but it could not wipe away the soothing heat of the sun. She had not felt warm since they had left Valentia. It was as if the cold of whatever had taken Hugo clung to her skin.
It was nice, though, to have her body free of pain and enjoy the sun, even for a moment. A soft breath left her lips as the nausea that had dogged her for the past weeks settled. Leaning back on her hands, she stretched her fingers wide, the stone warm under her touch. She just let herself relax.
In the distance, the trees squeaked as they rubbed together, almost as if talking to the wind. It was actually peaceful. A smile curled her lips. The distant sounds of her two companions talking was comforting.
Minutes passed. She deliberately thought of nothing. She missed not being able to see the energy of life, but nothing could stop her feeling it, the breeze, the warmth, the rough stone under her fingers. She inhaled, pine sap tickling her nose.
A violent silence rippled through the forest; even the wind ceased. She snapped open her eyes, her body tense as she bolted onto her feet. She spun on her heels, horrified.
Dust Devils poured from the trees, flanked by Battle Imps. She swallowed hard. The dagger she clasped in her right hand was not going to be enough to fight such numbers. With no magic and only one paltry weapon, Diamond felt incredibly vulnerable. She lifted her chin and relaxed her body; she was not as vulnerable as she had once felt. No one could ever take away her ability or will to fight.
She looked back at the house. It was too confined a space to fight in there. There was nowhere to run.
Tight-lipped, she stalked forward to meet her enemy. The main thoroughfare was riddled with rotting, black-eyed corpses. It seemed they were more concerned with herding their chained and bedraggled prisoners than killing her.
Diamond didn’t understand what she was seeing. Ragor had never taken prisoners, but there were at least fifty fae and humans shackled in iron with barely enough slack to walk. Blisters covered the faes' skin under the iron bands, and the human prisoners did not seem to be faring much better.
Dread tightened her belly, her brow furrowing. What does a band of Battle Imps and Dust Devils want with prisoners? They never take prisoners, only souls.
One of the Battle Imps gave a strange roar. It
looked right at her and grinned, its jaw spreading wide, showing rotting teeth. Turning from its course, it headed straight toward her. The chains and manacles wrapped around its thick neck dangled freely, clattering as it strode forward. Its body rippled with brute power as it pulled a thick-bladed sword and fixed its black eyes on her.
A trickle of perspiration slid down the groove of Diamond’s spine. She did not have time to warn Attion or Otekah, not as the Dust Devils headed through the centre of the village.
A few of the rotting soldiers turned her way when the Battle Imp roared again. Her throat squeezed at the sheer number that surrounded her. Strangely, many of them continued following after the lines of starving prisoners.
Fine. Her eyes narrowed and her fingers curled and uncurled. She would fight her way to her friends.
Diamond ran forward. Reaching the first corpse, she lunged sideways, driving her small blade towards its throat. There was no way she could behead her enemy with such a weapon, but if she could wrestle away a sword, at least she stood a chance of survival. Before her blade struck home, the Dust Devil spun away, no longer corporeal but a swirling column of black ash.
Her momentum carried her forward and, with her enemy no longer there, she fell flat on her face. Air whooshed from her lungs as she slammed into the dirt. Heart thumping with dread, she flipped onto her back then back to her feet.
The Battle Imp chuckled a grating laugh that made Diamond’s stomach clench.
The Dust Devil, corporeal once again, stood about ten feet away. Blank-faced, its once beautiful fae features were bloodless, its wings rotten and hanging from its back. Raising a sword, it ambled forward, its soulless eyes unwavering.
Diamond looked for a way out, her head whipping desperately in all directions.
The Battle Imp laughed harder. “There is no escape, little human,” it rasped before turning to the Dust Devils. “Join the others,” it ordered. It inhaled hard—a wet, phlegmy sound—before it hawked and spat. “She is not alone. Find them and chain them with the others. Our Lord wants more vessels.” He turned to her, that evil grin plastered on his features once again. “This one is mine.”
Diamond watched as Dust Devils began to shuffle after the rest of their group. In the distance, she heard Attion bellow her name. She did not move, did not take her eyes off her enemy.
Inside she heard Hugo’s voice barking at her. Do not allow panic to rule your mind or it will kill you. She placed a hand upon her heart where he had once placed his. In here. Your spirit, your will to survive, it lives in here; no one can take it from you. She swallowed hard, fighting back her tears. I love you, she remembered him murmuring to her the night they had made love. She would not give up.
Tightening her cold fingers around the smooth metal handle of her small knife, a strange calm descended upon her. Tallo had shown her how to throw such a weapon. Her fingers flipped the blade, her wrist loosened and her breath left her lungs in a controlled exhalation.
The Battle Imp’s face was set in a self-satisfied grin when he fell face-first into the dried mud.
Diamond did not have time to gloat. She ran to the body and worked the blade back and forth, pulling it from the creature’s thick forehead. At least it was a big target, she reflected drily. Not like the tiny leaves or scraps of cloth Tallo and Hugo made me use for target practice.
She swiped up the Battle Imp’s sword and charged into the squad of Dust Devils surrounding her. Hugo had told her how he had fought these swirling columns of dust. They had to become corporeal again before they could strike; they stopped swirling a second before they reappeared.
Despite her knowledge, the first one to reappear slashed her upper arm before she realised it was there. It did not manage a second strike. It exploded into dust, covering her from head to foot as the long blade she now grasped took its head.
She could not spare a second to glance over her shoulder, but fear curled its icy fingers around her heart. Attion and Otekah would be overwhelmed. Even with their fighting skills, the sheer number of Dust Devils would be their downfall. She could only hope they survived.
Surrounded by the dead husks of men and fae, her own fate seemed sealed. Swallowing hard, she gritted her teeth and just became. Even with no magic, her body twirled, struck and blocked in a macabre dance of death.
She viciously cut down her enemy, fighting a path towards her friends. She wondered if Hugo’s soul would feel her die just as she often felt his pain. Not wanting him to, she shut down her mind.
Dust Devils swirled around her. Weak from lack of good food and sleep, she tired quickly.
A swirling column of dust stopped before her. She pulled back her sword ready to take its head off. Before she could strike, the biggest wolf she had ever seen barrelled into it. With one snap of its huge jaws, the Dust Devil was no more. Pale blue eyes regarded her briefly before the animal snarled and dived into the fray.
Diamond gaped. She knew those eyes. She swore she did, but now was not the time to try and remember who they belonged to. Even with the wolf on her side, the number of Dust Devils and Battle Imps was frightening.
Her heart lifted when Attion came into view, Otekah beside him. Fighting with vicious precision, they cut down the enemy. But her relief was short-lived. Attion yelled as an arrow slammed into the shoulder of his sword arm. He tried to keep fighting but went down under a surge of bodies, followed closely by Otekah.
On her right the huge grey and white wolf tore into the enemy. A whirl of dust stopped behind him as he clamped his jaws onto the neck of a Dust Devil.
Diamond yelled a warning.
Too late.
The wolf howled as his side was slashed open, leaving layers of muscle visible.
Diamond spun on her haunches, kicked the legs out from her nearest enemy and took his head. She stared, momentarily stunned as the wolf dissolved. A naked man collapsed at the feet of the Dust Devils. Before she could rouse herself back to action, pain shot through her skull. Her legs buckled.
A Battle Imp stepped over her prostrate form.
“Do not kill them!” he barked. “Chain them with the others.”
Diamond pushed the loose, irritating strands of hair from her eyes. She was exhausted. Even lifting her shackled arms made her starved body ache. Trying not to wince, she observed the blisters her iron bracelets had caused. Her red and raw skin wept, weeks’ worth of dirt and rust forming a disgusting paste over her inflamed skin.
She squinted, peering through the gloom that shrouded them, turning day to perpetual night. The sky was awash with shadow, which hovered and swirled over the vast expanse of flat tundra that had once boasted a grassy plain full of life. Now only columns of dust swirled across its desolate expanse, some of them Dust Devils, others just natural swirls of dust that disappeared on the stormy winds.
Diamond collapsed to the ground, kneeling in the dust and blinking it from her eyes.
Attion and Otekah were on a different chain. They had both lost weight, just as she had. Their captors hadn’t fed their prisoners for two days. Or maybe it was three. She frowned, clutching her painful, empty stomach as it growled.
Before they had been captured, Attion had shown her how to find edible roots, and where mushrooms and edible fungi were most likely to grow, but that had been where the forest was recovering from Ragor’s influence. The farther south they trudged, the more barren it became.
Diamond had tried her best to find things to eat as they were forced onward, but it was useless now. The Battle Imps sometimes shot birds from the skies and threw the carcasses at their prisoners. Clearly, they didn’t want their prisoners to die. She gagged at the memories of these starving prisoners fighting to reach that raw meat, some beating their neighbour to get it. Seeing them fight was a source of great amusement to the cruel Battle Imps.
Her fingers bled as she rooted through the dirt for bugs or any edible grass roots.
Nothing.
Shoulders slumping in defeat, Diamond fell onto her rear
and stared at the imposing shadow of Stormguaard. Jack’s home, at the far reach of the dead plains, was silhouetted against the dull sky. Diamond narrowed her eyes against the wind. Despite her best efforts, fine dust blew in her eyes. She rubbed them against her upper arm, then immediately cursed as grit scraped across her eyeball. Blinking furiously, she studied the plains and the enemy that surrounded the prisoners.
Her heart plummeted. She could still see no way out—yet.
Lips in a tight line, she turned to the naked warrior who was chained beside her. She had long since ceased to feel uncomfortable at his state of undress. Instead she shook him gently.
“Tawne?”
“Yes?” he whispered, his voice rasping and weak.
“I’m just going to check your wound,” she told him.
Tawne huffed. “Won’t make much difference. You can’t stop the infection,” he pointed out.
Diamond swallowed. It was true, but she wouldn’t admit that. Ignoring the pain in her wrists, she awkwardly unwrapped the strip of her tunic they had managed to wrap around his ribs.
A nearby growl had her snapping her head up. In the dim light she saw Attion’s now wholly green eyes glint.
She scowled. Surely, he isn’t being possessive on Hugo’s behalf?
Absentmindedly, she scratched her leg, ignoring her friend and eyed the weeping wound. She wrinkled her nose at the smell. Another irritating tickle had her slapping at her leg.
Attion growled again, louder this time.
Her attention darted to him, warning in her gaze, but he shook his head and gestured to his mouth.
Diamond frowned and shook her head. She didn’t understand.
Attion rolled his eyes, just as something wrapped around her wrist, and tugged.
Her attention flew to her wrist. A thin green shoot twisted about her skin. She almost squealed in shock.
Attion couldn’t hold in his smirk. Eat it, he mouthed at her.
Gulping, she made sure her guards weren’t paying her any attention and snapped the green shoot at the base. Immediately it grew again. Diamond shoved some in her mouth and chewed whilst surreptitiously pushing a portion in between Tawne’s fingers.
The Goddess and The Guardians Boxset: The Complete Romantic Fantasy Quartet Page 88
